A Slow Fall
by margotm
Summary: Rose and Scorpius hate each other... or do they?
1. Chapter 1

"AL!" I ran towards my favorite raven-haired cousin and flung myself into his open arms. He catches me and spins me around in a circle before setting me down.

"Hey little cousin, I missed you."

"I missed you too, Albus. And for the record, I'm older than you. Also, did you hear the news? I'm Head Girl!"

He breaks out in a grin. Ruffling my hair, he says "Is that even a surprise by now? We all knew you'd get it the moment you came out of the womb. You're amazing Rosie." His grin falls a little at his next words, "Oh, and, um, Scor got his letter during camp."

Raising my eyebrows in disbelief, I ask, "Letter, as in head boy letter?"

Albus' face is answer enough.

I close my eyes. I must be dreaming. Scorpius Malfoy _can not_ be head boy. Nope.

Let me tell you a little something about the head boy and girl. They share a dormitory. They share duties. They share classes. They share _everything_. And Scorpius Malfoy is the specific person I want to share _nothing_ with, except for maybe the occasional insult. Well, not occasional, but that doesn't stop the fact that he is certainly not somebody I wanted to spend any time with at all. Malfoy is the scum of the earth, douchebag extraordinaire, STD factory, the worst narcissist you'll ever meet.

We began hating each other first year. At that point, every word my father said was law. So of course when he told me to beat Malfoy at every test, I took his words to heart. And when Scorpius Malfoy and I were paired off for our first duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts together, I _obviously_ had to beat him. This is where it got difficult, however, because along with good looks, Malfoy has good brains. Sucks he doesn't have a good attitude to go along with it. Anyhow, the duel went on for long enough, until the teacher had to break us apart. The duel sparked a fierce competitiveness between Scorpius and I. That competitiveness transferred out of classes, into Quidditch, into insults in the hall, into duels in the halls. Into some detentions. Oops. Our so called "enemiship" kept evolving. We found different ways to annoy each other, and it seemed I could always get a rise out of him and him out of me. We knew how to push each other's buttons. We still do.

Unfortunately for me, even with all of his flaws, Malfoy still manages to be physically perfect, attracting the same amount, if not more girls than Albus, which is an incredible feat in itself. Grey eyes, white-blonde hair, sharp features, toned body from Quidditch, he looks like he's stepped out of one of those muggle magazines young girls spend all day squealing over. Of course, the young girls at our school spend all day squealing over him and Albus, which does wonders for both of their egos. It makes sense, though, because it is obvious that they are the two best looking guys of our year. Pair that with them being best friends and you've got the perfect recipe for a brainless teenage girl to obsess over.

** (Please do not take this as though I'm complimenting Malfoy; I am merely stating facts. His frustratingly good looks are more reason for me to hate him.)

I'll explain the Albus and Scorpius friendship, because it is understandingly a little odd. Al, being the idiot that he is, went and got himself sorted into Slytherin. His explanation was that his father told him that Albus was named after one of the greatest people he knew, who was coincidentally a Slytherin. The news of Albus Severus Potter landing in Slytherin made big waves among both the Weasley/Potter family and the rest of the wizarding world. Of course, Malfoy unsurprisingly got sorted into Slytherin, which caused Albus and him to be roommates. They went on to become fast friends, which was perplexing to the wizarding world, who'd been following this story very closely (being a Weasley/Potter gets you a lot of press). It started to make sense to me as time progressed, though. They both joined the Quidditch team in their first year, after being discovered, Harry Potter style, arguing in the Quidditch class about some stupid thing. Being the babies on the team brought them closer, and soon they were inseparable. This became very frustrating for me, already having a strong disgust for Malfoy and being Albus's other best friend.

"Al, you have _got_ to be kidding. There's no way I'm spending an entire year with him."

"Sorry cuz. Not my decision. Hey look, Lily's coming!"

"Nice change of topic there." I say as I roll my eyes before getting attacked by my favorite fifteen-year-old. I'd like to say that she's my mini-me, but she's really the opposite. Where I'm studious and organized, she's fiery, spirited, and carefree. Well, I guess I'm also fiery and spirited, but I'm really not carefree. Quite the opposite actually. Lily is very sarcastic and confident, to the point where she's gotten multiple detentions (per month) from her teachers for talking back in class. I also pull pranks and do things that would get me in trouble, but I'm good at sneaking around and kissing up to teachers so the only detentions I get are when I fight with Malfoy. Where I care about school, she really couldn't spend less time worrying about it.

Lily's appearance is also very different from mine. She has long light brown hair, "eyes as green as a fresh-pickled toad" (hehe), adorable dimples and a light smattering of freckles across her nose. She's also extremely short, a detail that hasn't escaped her attention in the least. It's something she detests about herself, but she makes up for her shortcomings in height by having the biggest attitude in the world. I, on the other hand, have long dark red hair, blue eyes, no freckles, and am 5'8".

Although we have our many differences, there are many things that make Lil and I very similar. We exercise. A ton. There are times where we wake up at five am to go running together every morning. We both play Quidditch on our house teams, her on the Gryffindor team and me on the Ravenclaw team, but she plays chaser like her mother and I play keeper like my father.

Another thing that renders us very similar is obviously our family. I always go to either her or Albus when the stress of being so known around the Wizarding World gets to me, although after all, each member of the family deals with the stress in a different way. Albus will almost always be running after some girl or playing Quidditch, James will either be after a girl or pulling a prank with Fred, and Fred will be somewhere pulling pranks with James. Roxanne, Lucy and Dominique, the inseparable trio, deal with it by rebelling against anything and everything, and partying. A lot. Victoire, I think, is the most similar to me. She is studious, smart, quiet, but also has her sarcastic moments. Molly is really uptight, taking after her father, and we aren't very close. She is probably the person I talk to the least, and we don't have the most loving relationship. Louis, on the other hand, is actually one of the most perfect people ever to land on this planet. He's obviously inherited his mother's veela genetics, but he's also incredibly smart and funny. Lily is snarky. She's very popular with boys, and also has her moments of rebelliousness. Hugo is quiet but not quiet at the same time. I think he is quite possibly the most confusing person you will ever meet. He is nerdy while also being cool, and reminds me a lot of my father, and even though we're in different houses and different years, he's my little brother and understands me on a different level.

Let me clarify who all these people are, because you're probably very confused right now. Albus, James, and Lily are all Ginny and Harry's children. James is a year older than Albus and I, and graduated from Hogwarts last year. Lily is two years younger than me, along with Hugo. Louis, Dominique, and Victoire are Fleur and Bill's kids. Victoire graduated from Hogwarts a long time ago, around six years, which means she's 23 now. Dominique graduated two years ago and is nineteen years old. Louis is still a school year below me, despite only being a few months younger than me, which desolates me to no length. Next we have Percy and Audrey's girls, Lucy and Molly. Molly graduated a year below Victoire, and Lucy graduated two years ago. George and Angelina's children, Fred and Roxanne, are a year apart. Roxanne graduated along with Lucy and Dominique (two years ago), and Fred graduated last year with James. Finally, we have Hugo and I, children of Hermione and Ron Weasley. I'm in seventh year and Hugo is in fifth year with Lily.

"Rose! I haven't seen you in so long, I've missed you so much. I bought us so many clothes for the new year you won't even imagine. And I got a new owl! I named her Sage. I also heard you got head girl! That's so exciting."

I shake my head, laughing at Lily's word-vomit. "I've missed you too Lily. Did you hear who got Head Boy?"

"Scorpius. I know, it's going to be horrible. You can always come sleep in my dorm if you want. I'm sure one of my dorm mates would want to lend you their bed." She says with a smirk.

I think Lily enjoys watching me and Scorpius fight, and she sure as hell knows that none of her dorm mates will lend me their beds. Nevertheless, I'm excited to see the head dorms. Victoire told me that she thought it was the most beautiful place in all of Hogwarts, and I am never one to doubt Vic's word.

The waiter comes and brings all nine of us to our table. We are in a muggle restaurant, so that nobody recognizes us. I know my Uncle Harry hates the attention he gets from being _the_ Harry Potter, so he tries to stick to muggle establishments. I think that's why I always like to spend time with him. I hate the attention I get, and I'll take any moment without being recognized as Ron and Hermione Weasley's daughter. It's not that I don't like attention as a concept, it's that I'd rather the attention be for my own accomplishments and not my parents'. I haven't deserved the attention, so I shouldn't have it.

"Hey cousin, remember me?" My last cousin present asked. James Sirius Potter. He and Al could be twins, except for the fact that James is much less serious about basically everything than Al is and has blue eyes instead of hazel ones. They both look alike, both play seeker, both are popular, both have (or had, in James' case) the entire female population of Hogwarts at their fingertips. They're some of the best people in the world.

"How could I forget my least favorite cousin?" I answer sarcastically. "You've gotten uglier this summer."

"Thank you! I've noticing the same thing lately, but I'm glad because its just something that makes us more similar. Tell me, have your… shit, I can't find a flaw. Ok, you win this one."

I smile smugly, ready to accept my victory with a few quick witted words, when my aunt Ginny, still beautiful in her older age, calls me to her side.

"That'll be enough from the two of you today. Rose, come with me, I have something to tell you."

She leads me by the shoulder outside of the restaurant into the busy London street.

"You are going to attend your last year at Hogwarts, as Head Girl no less. Don't tell Al, because it's his last year as well and I didn't give him anything, but I have something for you."

She ruffles around her large bag for a minute, until she fishes out a small light blue box.

"Here. It's something I found while I was walking around, and I knew it would fit you perfectly. Go on, open it."

I slowly open the box. Inside is a simple necklace. It has a short silver chain, carrying a small blue sapphire. I gasp. It is so beautiful. Any way you turn it, it catches the light. It seems to smile at back me.

"I was walking around muggle London when I saw it in a store. It reminded me immediately of you and your eyes."

"Aunt Ginny, it's so beautiful. I don't know what to say. It's amazing, thank you so much." I take the necklace out of the box carefully, and tie it around my neck. It fits perfectly, falling right in the center of my collarbones. The stone is cool against my skin and I smile at Aunt Ginny.

"It's beautiful on you, darling. Now let's go eat. God knows you need it." I internally sigh at her reference. My entire family thinks I don't eat enough, but the real reason is that I'm never hungry.

"Thanks again, Aunt Ginny, I really love it."

We walk back to the table, where the rest of the family has already sat down. I see an empty seat between Hugo and Al, so I take it. Hugo looks at my necklace and looks away. I feel like he already knew of its existence. Hugo is extremely insightful, and always knows things are going to happen before they do. He still confuses me, and I've known him for a _very_ long time.

We order, and soon we go home. I still need to pack; I'm one of those people who leaves their packing until the last possible second. Last year, I woke up at three am and tried to fit my entire bookshelf into one bag. I had to ask my mom to expand it for me, and needless to say, she was upset to have been woken up so early.

As I walk into my room, I sigh. It's going to be my last time seeing it for another five months. That's why I hate packing. It's like saying goodbye, and saying goodbye isn't my strong suit.

I walk over to my bookshelf, pull out my wand, and flick all of the books into my suitcase. I then point my wand to the closet, and flick all of my clothes, neatly folded, into my second suitcase. Andromeda would be proud. My room looking appropriately barren by now, I try to snuggle into bed and get some sleep, but it doesn't come. It's two in the morning when my cat, Nova, comes and snuggles under my arm. It's four in the morning when I decide to stop trying to sleep and read a book. It's six in the morning when my mother calls me down for breakfast. It's eight in the morning when my parents drive Hugo and I to King's Cross. It's nine thirty in the morning when we arrive. It's nine forty-five when I say my goodbyes. It's ten when the train leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

I step onto the train, head girl badge neatly pinned onto my robes, and walk to the Head's cabin. I know Scorpius will already be there; he has a habit of being early.

"And the head girl decides to arrive." An arrogant voice greets me as I step into the cabin.

"Malfoy. I see they decided to take charity on someone dumb this year and make him head boy. I can't say I'm surprised they would choose you."

He throws his head back and laughs tauntingly. "Relax, Weasley, you've only been in here two seconds and you've already turned red."

He looks me up and down with his frustratingly sharp grey eyes, wearing his constant smirk. He's wearing his hair slicked back, like his father likes him to wear it, but I know that when we get to school he'll wear it in its usual 'I just got out of bed and look this good' fashion. His green and silver tie is loose, and he's leaning against the window, his legs draped over the other seats next to him.

I plop down directly across from him, and loosen the top three buttons of my blouse. My mother always makes me button my shirts up to the top, and it's ugly and uncomfortable. Resting my feet against the seats next to me, I try and make myself more comfortable.

"And you've gotten, if possible, even paler, over the summer. You'd think the sun might make you more tan, Malfoy, but no, you're still an albino."

He's about to come up with a, I'm sure, very clever retort (note the sarcasm), when Neville, or should I say, Professor Longbottom, walks into the cabin. I quickly sit up in my seat and make myself seem more presentable while Malfoy stays lying against the window.

"Welcome, Rose and Scorpius, to your final year at Hogwarts. We've decided to make you head boy and girl due to your impeccable academics and behavior on campus. We hope you will continue on this exemplary trajectory, lest you wish to be stripped of your head privileges. You will be doing rounds every other night, and will be taking care of the prefect program. As a reward for this, you will be getting a shared head's common room and dormitories."

He keeps going on his speech for the next fifteen minutes, outlining every single one of our head's responsibilities. I hang onto every one of his words with rapt attention, because you never know when you'll need to know something. He's about to leave the cabin when he gives us a last bit of advice.

"One last thing. I know that both of you have had your… difficulties with each other." referring to our multiple detentions for our acts of aggression against each other. "I certainly hope that these will not come between you and your duties, unless you wish to discontinue being head boy and girl."

He walks out of the cabin, and I look, smirking, at Malfoy. "He just threatened us."

"Better behave, Weasley."

I tip my head back and laugh. "We meet with the prefects back here in an hour. Don't miss it Malfoy."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Rosie."

Ignoring him, I walk out of the cabin, trying to find the rest of my cousins and friends. I see them soon, all crammed into a single compartment, laughing at one of Albus's shitty jokes. I step in and dramatically fall onto the last seat available.

"This year, my dear friends, will be the death of me." I recount to them the events of the previous twenty minutes, from when I walked into the door, to Neville's thinly veiled threats, to how an entire year sleeping in the same general area as Malfoy will almost definitely kill me.

"I'll be expecting many chocolate frogs and comforting words from all of you guys."

"Sure thing 'cuz. I'll even throw in some fainting fancies, make it even more dramatic for you." I look over at Al, whose glasses are on the verge of falling off his nose.

"Al, move over and give me some more space. I'm only going to be here for another forty-five minutes and then I have to go meet the prefects. And if you give me fainting fancies I'll give you puking pastilles. Watch yourself, Potter."

Al disgruntledly scoots over, giving me some room on the bench. I've managed to squeeze myself between him and Skylar, my best friend and roommate. Across from us are Harper and Taylor, my other two roommates.

Skylar Cantor and I met when we both got sorted into Ravenclaw our first year. She got sorted before me and when I went to sit next to her at the table, we automatically became friends. She's American, and absolutely gorgeous. With black hair, caramel skin, and an athletic body, she's every boy's dream. She's witty and sarcastic, and one of the smartest people I know, in the least conventional sense of the word. Instead of focusing on schoolwork, like me, she'd rather use her brains for pranks or Quidditch strategies (she's the Ravenclaw captain). She'd rather not waste her time on things she really doesn't care about. Everybody already knows she's going into professional Quidditch. She's already gotten a few offers.

Harper Hewett is another one of my close friends and roommates. She has shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes, full pink lips, a smattering of freckles across her nose, and overly large glasses. She's a full on bookworm and enjoys doing extra credit work in her free time. She's lovable and cute and is always there if you need comforting or just a friend to hang out with.

My last roommate, Taylor Deberrio, is one of my favorite people. She regularly dyes her hair blue and wears very ripped clothing. Her sarcasm and sense of humor always lighten up every room she walks into. I'm almost sure she'll pursue a career in wizarding entertainment. Oddly enough, she and Harper are inseparable, as are Skylar and I.

I lean onto Albus's shoulder and start talking to him and Skylar about Quidditch. Thirty minutes pass, and the candy trolley rolls in. Harper immediately grabs a few chocolate frogs, her favorite candy, and Skylar takes a packet of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. She offers me one with a slight yellowish tint and I refuse. I'm not a big fan of candy.

Another fifteen minutes pass and I'm forced to squeeze myself out of the tight space between Skylar and Albus to go meet my wonderful co-Head and the other prefects.

I'm early when I get there, so I try to prepare what I'm going to say to the prefects. Malfoy and I have around twenty minutes until the everybody else arrives to decide on the rounds schedule, which I feel is much too little. Unfortunately, he refused to come any earlier and I'm not doing all the work on my own.

He arrives the second the clock turns to 11:00, shirt messily buttoned up, hair mussed, lips dark pink, and gleaming eyes. I sigh and roll my eyes. He'd just gotten laid.

"Do you take _any_ time off, Malfoy? Or are you just so perpetually horny that the minute you see a girl with boobs and an ass you have to bury your dick inside of her?"

He laughs a deep, taunting, laugh. "Jealous, Weasley?"

I lean back onto my seat and pull my hair out from its tight bun. It falls in auburn waves down onto my shoulders and reaches the bottom of my ribcage. I internally laugh when I see Malfoy's gaze darken in lust as it follows my hair onto my shoulders.

"I can get laid all I want Malfoy, there's nothing to be jealous about there."

"Who would want to have sex with _you_ , Weasley? Nobody likes to make out with an ugly person."

"Aww, are you resorting to kindergarten tactics? 'You're ugly! No, you're ugly!' It's almost… cute."

He rolls his eyes and falls back onto a seat. "I need to use kindergarten vocabulary so that you understand it."

"Sure, and _that's_ why I'm Head Girl. They _totally_ needed the girl with the best kindergarten vernacular to direct all of the prefects and do rounds every night."

A smirk appears on Malfoy's face. "But of course! They just needed a change from the usual _intelligent_ person they use as Head Girl, so obviously they chose you."

I sigh and slump down onto my seat. "Whatever. Let's do the rounds schedule."

His smirk widens in victory, but he lets it go.

Ten minutes later, about halfway through meticulously arranging rounds so that people who hate each other are separate, Malfoy pushes his schedule off his lap and stretches, his white dress shirt stretching against his frustratingly muscular chest. In turn, I stand up and open the train window to let air into the hot and stuffy cubicle.

"Weasley, amuse me."

I ark an eyebrow at him, wondering how on earth he could possibly believe he can boss me around. "No."

Rolling his eyes, he says, "I'm so bored with this." He raises his hand to mess his white-blonde hair up, sighs, and looks down at his stuff, unceremoniously dropped on the seat next to him.

I lean against the window. "We don't have much to complete. Let's just quickly finish this, talk to the prefects, and then we'll be done."

He doesn't answer for a second, but I quickly realize where the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth comes from.

On the top of my head grows two large antlers, and the tip of my nose has swelled to twice its size, adopting a bright red color.

Red hot anger bubbles at the pit of my stomach, its levels rising at a rapid pace. My jaw clenches and my dark blue eyes flash dangerously at Malfoy.

He's clutching his sides, leaning on the window for support, laughing at me.

I grip my wand tight in my hands, my knuckles almost white, and shoot a nonverbal hex at him.

It's my turn to laugh as large black bats fly out of his nose and attack him. While he's incapacitated, I reverse the damage he's made on my nose and head and sit back down to work on the prefects' rounds. He quickly breaks out of the spell, and, without my realization, enlarges my nose again so that I resemble a redhead Pinnochio.

I lift my now very heavy head up to meet his gaze and raise my wand to propel a stream of water onto his fancy designer clothes.

Sending him a sweet little smile, I say, "Felt you were a little too hotheaded there, Malfoy. You needed to cool off a little."

I'm laughing until he sends me careening back into the train seat with his own jet of water. Sputtering and trying to remove strands of my wet hair from my eyes and mouth, I blast him with more water.

We continue soaking each other, each of us getting angrier every time we get hit with another jet of water, until a startled fifth year prefect walks in on us.

"Um… Rose? Scorpius? I thought the meeting was about to start. Should I come back or…"

I jump, realizing that the position Malfoy and I are in is quite embarrassing. The entire train cabin is soaked, including the both of us, and I'm pressed up against the window, with Malfoy leaning into me. With nobody being able to see the snarls on our face, it is quite a compromising position to be caught in.

I swear under my breath and quickly push Malfoy off of me. "Sorry, we were having a slight argument." With a flick of my wand, the cabin and I are dry. "Please, come in. We're about to start."

I try to muster a smile, but fail and instead shoot Malfoy a glare. "This is your fault, you know." I mutter to him under my breath. He rolls his eyes back at me as a clear way of saying that it was obviously not his fault.

I elbow him in the ribs before I start addressing the prefects who have been slowly trickling in since the first fifth year caught us.

"Welcome! We're about to start the new year, and we have a few things to address. Malfoy and I have almost completed the rounds schedule, and we'll get it to you as soon as possible." The fifth year prefect coughs, and I raise an eyebrow at him. "We will be meeting every Saturday night at 8:00. Now, I don't care if this interferes with Quidditch practice. There comes a point where you have to choose your priorities. The two major events we need to organize are the winter formal in December and the semi-formal to celebrate the Battle of Hogwarts' anniversary in May."

I list all of the prefect duties, along with the ways they can be stripped of their privileges. Meanwhile, Malfoy is in a corner, finishing what I hope is the rounds schedule.

"You have a bathroom that you'll be sharing with the other prefects, so please use it wisely. I recommend you don't fool around in there. Its quite embarrassing to be caught by one of your friends, or worse, a stranger, lip-locked in a tub with somebody."

Malfoy looks up and plasters on his famous Malfoy family smirk. "Not that you'd know how that feels, right Weasley? Being lip-locked with somebody. Who would ever kiss you?"

I roll my eyes and place my hands on my hips, turning around to face him. "Again, Malfoy, with the immature insults and inappropriate times. Either you're helpful and you speak up at the right moment, or you will shut up and let me handle the talking."

His smirk widens but he has the decency to shut up.

The next fifteen minutes pass with me still describing the prefects' roles to them until I dismiss them so they can get to their stuff before the train arrives at Hogwarts.

I move to exit the carriage, but think better of it and look back to stick my tongue out at Malfoy.

He sticks out his own in turn, but says nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The ride back to the castle was very uneventful. Dinner was also uneventful, apart from McGonagall's wine glass shattering in the middle of her speech due to a spell accidentally sent from some idiotic first year who hasn't learned to control their wand yet. What _is_ eventful is trying to get into the Head's dorms.

"Malfoy, the password will not be 'Malfoy, I love you'."

"Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I'd hear you profess your love for me, Weasley."

"Good, because I wasn't. Anyhow, I was thinking that the password should be 'Hippogriff'."

"That's boring. We should do 'Malfoy is the king of the world'."

The conversation carries on like that for the next twenty minutes, while the elderly woman in the painting sits in her upsettingly pink dress, getting angrier and angrier at each of our suggestions.

When she finally speaks up, it isn't to endorse either one of us, "After hearing both of your ridiculous passwords, I've decided that the password will be 'unicorns and lollipops', and no more arguments from the two of you, at least when I'm in the vicinity."

Malfoy and I turn to glare at her in unison, but he's the first one to speak up. "You're fucking with me."

I add in, "That will absolutely not be our password for the rest of the year. Unicorns and lollipops is the most absurd password I've ever –"

But I don't get to finish because the door swings open at the mention of the horrid password she's assigned. Seeing what's inside of the door, however, erases any thoughts of 'unicorns and lollipops'.

Walls lined with books give into a living space with plush blue and green armchairs and couches strewn around, with a long wooden table in the middle, probably to be used as a desk. The wall facing farthest away from the entrance is almost completely glass windows, giving the room the most light I've seen in any given room at Hogwarts. One large stone staircase leads up to two rooms, which I imagine are bedrooms.

When I get up to my room, the first thing I notice is the balcony giving out on the most beautiful view of the lake I've seen at Hogwarts. The bed is very large, with a dark blue canopy and bedding. A desk is set in the corner, and next to it is a door that leads to the Ravenclaw girls' dorms, so I can still go back to my regular common room if need arises. It will, knowing who the head boy is. Another door leads to a bathroom that resembles the prefect bathroom, but slightly smaller.

I re-organize my clothing and books so that the clothes are organized by color and length and the books are organized by name. Then, I say goodnight to Nova (my cat), and promptly fall asleep.

When I wake up, it is five am. I lug myself out of bed and pull some athletic clothes on. Once my sports bra, leggings, and running shoes are on, I pull my hair into a ponytail and grab my water bottle.

I'm almost out of the common room when I see Malfoy exiting his own room in similar dress. Shirtless. He scowls at me, and I roll my eyes back at him before exiting the dorm. Internally, though, I feel very frustrated. Nobody should be such a douchebag and still have muscles in places you wouldn't guess muscles exist. Also, why is he waking up at five in the morning? I thought the only people who are driven enough to do that are me and occasionally Lily.

I curse as I realize that I forgot my phone in my dorm, but I'm already almost out of the castle and walking back to my room at this point would cost me time I don't have.

It is one of those mornings that make you wonder why school doesn't happen outdoors. The sun has just barely risen over the lake and a light breeze ruffles my hair. I can smell the dew drops off of the grass, birds are chirping, and I wouldn't be surprised if bambi walked out from behind a tree. It is a scene pulled out of a fairy tale.

I take a long gulp from my water bottle and start off on my run. Running helps me forget. It is a sanctuary I can go to for two hours out of my day and ignore the stress of school and life. I don't need to concentrate on what the tabloids have said about my family; all I need to know is which foot is going in front of the other. Painful, perhaps, but mind-numbingly so.

I spend the next hour and a half sprinting around the lake, weaving in and out of the forbidden forest. Something about it being the first day of school gives me an extra burst of energy, letting me run faster than I usually do.

It is nearing seven when I arrive, sweat dripping from my body, back to the dorm. My legs and arms are shaking and I'm having trouble making my breathing return to normal. I smell as though I've run a marathon. Nevertheless, a big smile graces my face and I feel relaxed and happy for the first time since I've stepped into Hogwarts this year. I rush up into my dorm before my odor permeates the common room and take a quick shower.

Once I'm out, I decide to blow-dry my hair. Muggle appliances have become more common in our society since the second wizarding war, due in large part to my own mother. That is why I am allowed to have my phone with me in Hogwarts. Wi-Fi was implemented in my fourth year. Sometimes, we are allowed to complete our assignments on a computer instead of writing them out on parchment, but that is still rare. Even so, the use of technology has greatly aided the wizarding society in countless ways.

Once my auburn hair is completely dry and flowing around my shoulders, I take out my makeup bag. Since it is the first day of school and everybody will be dressed to impress, I have to follow that trend. Especially because it's my last year and all eyes will be on me, it is vital for me to look good. I'm a girl, and I'm famous. It is hard to show up with my hair pulled up into a messy bun and bags under my eyes when I'm sure some first year will have brought their phone just to take pictures of me and my family.

I sound conceited. It wasn't meant to come off that way- this is the part I hate the most about my life. I would give anything to not have to go to any fancy dinner parties where people talk to each other in "fake" and polite, where tight smiles are seen left and right.

I put on some eyeliner, something I'd never do on a regular day, and brush on some mascara. My blue eyes are now even more dark and mysterious (as Louis has described them) than usual. As I am applying lip gloss, I notice a moving shape outside my window.

As I walk towards the window, I notice that the moving shape is not one, but two moving shapes on broomsticks tossing a quaffle back and forth on the Quidditch field. One has a mop of black hair, the other has a mess of almost-silver hair. I recognize the two immediately. My favorite cousin and his best friend, the Head Boy. The two are easily the best male players in the year. Albus follows in his father and brother's footsteps and plays seeker, whereas Malfoy plays chaser. I chuckle to myself, finding it funny that, at eight in the morning on the first day of school, they find it necessary to practice.

I watch them for a few minutes and then return to the mirror to finish my makeup.

Seeing them playing makes me think back to my "conversation" with Malfoy on the train before our talk with prefects. Just remembering it makes my blood boil, but contrary to his beliefs, I am not ugly. I have a small, straight nose, clear skin, plump lips, and an athletic body. I'm nothing compared to Victoire and Dominique, but certainly am not revolting. What makes me truly remarkable, according to Witch Weekly, is the odd combination of my eyes and hair. And I quote, they say, "The famous Weasley orange hair is nowhere to be found on Rose Weasley. No, her hair is of the darkest auburn possible. Pair that with her unusual dark blue eyes and you've got a goddess living among us."

That's about the nicest thing Witch Weekly has ever said to me. The article before that one had called my family a "high class, snobbish group of socialites". Anybody who has met my family would say the opposite. The high class snobbish socialites in the wizarding world would be the Malfoy family, who my family wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole (with the exception of Albus).

I walk out of the bathroom, hair and makeup done, and try to find some clothes that flatter me. That is something else that changed when the second wizarding war rolled around. Instead of always wearing uniforms, we can wear muggle clothing. The only time we need to wear robes is when we are attending classes, which don't start until two days from now.

I pull on some tight blue jeans and a tight white cropped top. I put on the necklace Ginny gave me, making sure the sapphire rests right between my collar bones. Giving myself a last once-over in the mirror, I exit my bedroom. The clock next to the common room door tells me that it is a quarter past eight o'clock. Perfect.

I don't cross paths with anybody as I make my way to the Great Hall. It is the first day of school, which means everybody must already be downstairs having breakfast and catching up on everybody else's summer adventures. I enjoy the calmness of the hallways when nobody else is around. I don't think people appreciate Hogwarts' beauty enough. The clumsy arrangement of paintings and stones gives it charm no other castle could replicate.

As I step into the Great Hall, I spot Skylar and Taylor whispering excitedly into each others' ears while Harper silently reads a book beside them. I make my way towards them, noting, on my way, Albus' absence from the Slytherin table. Along with that, I notice Malfoy's absence. Good. I wouldn't want to spend any more time in his presence than needed. I sit down at the Ravenclaw table and immediately grab a good chunk of grapes from the basket in front of me. I'm never hungry for breakfast so I always gravitate towards fruit, which are, in my opinion, the reason for which I live. Honestly, is a life without fruit a life worth living?

Apparently Skylar had had quite a wild night. She, Taylor, and Harper had gone to the boys' room and gotten a little tipsy. By tipsy, I mean drunk. Harper is dating Frank Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's son, who is coincidentally a seventh year in Ravenclaw, with us. They've been dating for quite a while now, this year being their third year. I'm guessing that Harper was the one who dragged the rest of the girls down there.

I've dated a few boys, but when I did, the relationship lasted no more than two months, three if we were really pushing it. Boys tend to use me for my body and my fame. Nobody comes to me interested in the last book I read or the new potion I've decided to attempt. No, the fact that my parents are some of the most powerful people in the wizarding world is much more fascinating to them than my own interests. I shouldn't mind, but I do. It's another thing my parents' fame has taken away from me. It is yet another thing that I can't do for myself, an undeserved piece of attention that is handed to me.

Skylar snaps me out of my reverie by tugging on my hair and asking me if I'd mind going down to the Quidditch pitch to practice with her. I nod, finishing my last strawberry and following her out of the Great Hall. We stop at the Ravenclaw common room to grab our brooms. Because my room is at the top of the girls' staircase, it is much easier to get everything in one go.

We walk down arm in arm, not really talking. It is always hard to find topics of conversation on the first day back from break, because the regular school drama hasn't yet begun. So we walk down to the pitch silently.

The pitch is empty except for two people: my dearest cousin and his best friend, my dearest co-head. They land as we arrive.

Albus nods at me as he addresses Skylar, "Hey, do you guys want to train with us?"

The "you guys" was obviously directed towards Skylar, his inability to hide his massive crush on her evident in his words. As they start talking about some more Quidditch, I jump onto my broom and rise to the goals, charming some quaffles to come at me at random.

I don't realize that Malfoy is watching me practice until a particularly rough quaffle soars past my perfect defense and into the goal directly behind me. I swivel on my broom to see the reason a quaffle behaved in such a way and find myself staring directly into two silver orbs pretending to be eyes.

"You're focusing on defending the two outer goals and are ignoring the one directly behind you. Remember that there are three goals, Weasley."

I glare at Malfoy and say, "Send me another one and we'll see how you do this time."

He sends me quaffle after quaffle, and I block each and every one of them, until he curves one so that it enters the goal directly behind me. Again. I scowl at him and fly down to the bottom of the pitch. He follows directly behind me, and I realize that we've been down at the pitch for far longer than I'd anticipated. Skylar and Albus had already left, and, from the sun's placement directly above our heads, I'm guessing that it is around lunchtime.

"Shit, what time is it? We had that meeting with McGonagall."

Realization dawns on his eyes, and we both take off running towards the castle.

We're panting when we reach the head common room, and that's when we realize that instead of it being twelve, like we thought it was, it was eleven.

Malfoy glares at me, "Did you really make me _sprint_ back to the castle _in this heat_ for _absolutely no reason_?"

"You chose to follow me, I never told you to do anything."

He grumbles a bit and falls back into the white couch behind him. "Whatever." He pauses and looks at me through some stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, "That was a good practice."

I harrumph. "Was it really."

"Yeah, before you came."

Of course. I roll my eyes at him and sit into the light blue armchair in front of the couch. "I'm guessing you're taking all NEWTs."

"You guessed right. I need to in order to become an auror."

My eyebrows rise of their own accord. "You? You want to be an auror? You do know that my uncle is the department head, right?"

"Your uncle is my best friend's father. He's the one who asked me if I was interested in doing it."

"It sounds interesting."

"What are you doing when you leave here? You have to have something picked out."

His question takes me by surprise, and my cheeks immediately redden. "I don't know."

It's his eyebrows' turn to raise. "You mean that the genius Rose Weasley doesn't know what she's doing when she's leaving Hogwarts? Rose Weasley, brainiac extraordinaire, hasn't picked a profession yet?"

I raise my chin at him. "I haven't. Sorry to destroy yours and the rest of the wizarding world's expectations."

"Calm down, tiger. I'm just surprised is all."

I let out a spurt of air. "My name is Weasley to you."

"Sure, tiger."


	4. Chapter 4

**Scorpius POV**

I walk up to my room after my conversation with Weasley, her words still ringing in my head.

"So sorry to destroy yours and the rest of the wizarding world's expectations."

I've always thought of her life as perfect. Her family is faultless; they're honored by the entire wizarding community for being on the good side of the war. Even if she does have problems, she has hundreds of cousins to comfort her. If anything, she won the lottery.

I've never considered the things I thought made her life desirable to be the exact things that made her life undesirable. The attention and fame she gets also pressure her to be perfect: to be intelligent like her mother, be mischievous like her father, and be a role model like the both of them. The second she makes a mistake, it is shown to the entire world.

I ponder these thoughts as I go change out of my sweaty Quidditch uniform. Perhaps her situation is a difficult situation, however, I feel like it doesn't measure up to mine. I get almost the same amount of attention as her, except that instead of it being for good causes, mine is for bad causes.

But maybe our problems aren't so different. We're both trying to prove ourselves in a world where attention is thrust upon us for reasons undeserved. Our parents, although they may be lovely people, have gifted us with reputations that force us into a mold we may not want to be in. We were both bullied by the media and the public into being perfect. The consequences of failing, of course, are slightly different. Were I to fail, the media would simply say that that's what they believed all along, that that was the only thing my family was good at doing: failing. If Weasley were to fail, it would be shocking to everyone.

I shake my head of the sympathizing thoughts and move to take a shower.

I have a deep appreciation for the Heads' apartments. The view my rooms have on the castle grounds is unparalleled by any other place in Hogwarts except for maybe the astronomy tower, and I'm liking being able to sleep in my own room without my roommate Alexander Finsole's snores. Besides, what truly makes these rooms enjoyable is the knowledge of all of the hard work I've put into getting here as head boy.

I'm not known as the "smart kid" or the nerd around Hogwarts, but, contrary to most people's beliefs, I am taking seven N.E.W.T. level classes and, last year, got all Outstandings except for one Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration.

On top of the hours spent slaving over parchment paper and dusty books, I am a chaser on the Quidditch team, even though I'm not nearly as serious about it as Albus is.

The only person who has been able to maintain the same heavy schedule as me in my year is, you guessed it, Rose.

I've always been competitive with her, ever since we started out as first years. I'm not sure what the catalyst was, although I'm sure the fact that our parents have a deep hatred for each other doesn't help. I wouldn't ever admit this out loud, but without her there to always push me, I wouldn't have accomplished half the things I've done today.

I head out of my bedroom and into our shared common room, where I find her sprawled on a blue couch wearing sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, reading a book in French.

Deciding not to bother her, I decide to peruse the library left at our disposal. It is a fraction of the collection that the big Hogwarts library has, but, from what I can tell, still contains all of the classics. _Hogwarts: A History_ sits next to _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , along with other muggle books authored by Homer and Shakespeare. I've now read all of those books, but it is nice to know that they are readily available to open whenever I feel the need to reread them.

Rose peeks up from her book and notices me pull a copy of _Catcher in the Rye_ from the bookshelf.

"Have you read it before?" she inquires.

"Yeah. A bit of a weird read, don't you think?"

"Weird, but important. He gives an interesting take on the mind of a… slightly deranged person."

"True." I set the book down and walk over to the armchair next to the couch she's sitting on.

We sit there in semi-uncomfortable silence until I glance up at the clock.

"Ok, now we're really going to be late to McGonagall's meeting."

She looks up to the clocks and springs to her feet. "Shoot."

We rush out of the common room and down the massive staircase that leads us to the Great Hall. I race her up another set of stairs to the headmaster's office and am about to win until she shoves me out of the way.

The last thing I see of her before she rounds the next corner is her triumphant smirk.

"You little…"

I take off in a sprint and tackle her from behind. She easily ducks out of my holds and saunters up the last set of stairs to McGonagall's office.

We're both breathing a little heavily when McGonagall opens the door (she did away with those awful gargoyles that guarded the door in Dumbledore's time). She looks at us suspiciously, but as we're on time, she can't chastise us.

We file into her office and sit on the plush red chairs in front of her desk. A cat sits atop one of the bookshelves.

"Hello Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose we shouldn't waste any time."

She gets right into a speech very similar to Professor Longbottom's and I soon zone out. I'm staring at Snape's portrait in the wall when Rose swiftly kicks me under the desk.

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asks.

"Yes, sorry."

"I was asking the two of you if you'd finished the prefect rounds schedule."

I glance at Rose, unsure of what the answer is. She notices my stare, rolls her eyes, and answers for me, "Yes, we did finish the schedule. Here it is."

She pulls a folder out of her bag and sets it in front of McGonagall, who quickly reviews it with approval in her eyes.

"Very good. Thank you for stopping by. I'll give you your class schedules now and I'll remind you that your behavior is exemplary for the rest of the school. That means no more fighting in public areas, please."

She shuffles around her desk until she finally finds and hands us two pieces of parchment. We take them and quickly leave the room.

Rose wastes no time. As soon as the door closes behind us, she goes off.

"You were completely zoned out in there! You can't just let me do all of the work. You didn't even know that the rounds schedule was finished? Of course you didn't, because I did all of it. Honestly maybe I should be happy at least your incompetence reflects better on me, seeing as I'll obviously be doing everything."

She storms off before I can say anything.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow! We'd almost managed to go a whole half a day without arguing. We're really pushing ourselves today.

I hate that this little action of his affected me so much. Who cares if he didn't finish the rounds schedule? I never asked him to.

But on the other hand, he should have asked about it.

What a terrible conflict.

I'm still angry about Malfoy when I round a corner and bump into a very tall and broad chest.

"Hey there, firecracker, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

I relax a little when I see that it's only Louis.

"Sorry, I didn't see you. I'm a little… you know."

"Tired? Stressed? It's only the first day of school, Rose. Classes haven't even started yet."

"Yep. Apparently that's how it's going to be this year."

"Come down to the lake, I'm meeting Lily and Alice down there."

I break out into a grin. "Yeah," I say, "I'm down for that."

We hurry down, where we find Lily and Alice Longbottom sprawled out on a flannel blanket sipping pumpkin juice.

"Look who I found! She's stressed."

Lily raises her eyebrows and motions for me to sit down. As I'm sitting, she hands me a glass of pumpkin juice. I take a sip and have a little double take.

"It's a little early to spike drinks, isn't it, Lily?"

"Shh. It's only the first day." She winks at me.

I shrug and take another sip.

We sit there for a while, enjoying each others' company. Lily perks up, as if remembering something.

"Rose, I forgot to mention. We were invited to a party tonight on the far end of the lake. Come, please!"

"Who's hosting it? Who else is invited?" I respond.

"I think Alex Finsole is hosting it, but it's all of the sixth and seventh years."

Makes sense. Alex Finsole always hosts the first party of the year. It has a reputation of getting a little crazy, since everybody is so happy to see each other and their second home again.

"I'll come. We can get ready in my room. You should see it, it's insane! It's got this incredible view of the grounds and the bathroom has a fantastic mirror."

Lily smiles at that. "I'll be there at seven."

"Ok."

I'm laying in my room after dinner, reading a book that my mom recommended, when I hear a knock at my door.

"Come in!" I yell.

Lily saunters into the room, carrying a preposterously big bag for such an inconsequential event. "Look who I brought!"

Skylar pops her head through the door. "Hey chica!"

I laugh at the two of them and usher them in. I give them the layout of the room, pointing at the bathroom and opening the door to the common room to show them just how pretty it is.

"I love it!" Exclaims Lily. She plops her bag down on my bed and proceeds to take out its contents. She's brought plenty of outfit choices, along with a makeup collection that is about the size of mine (but is only a fraction of hers). Lastly, she takes out a few bottles of beer. "Thought we could pre-game a little."

I eye the bottles and figure I should probably start drinking after I've finished my makeup. "Good plan." I tell her, and then head into the bathroom.

I curl my hair with my wand and lengthen my eyelashes. The two charms will probably last me through the night. I take out the rest of my makeup and start making myself pretty (trying) by concealing a pimple that suddenly showed up today and adding some glitter to my eyes. Finally, I add some pink to my cheeks and lips and call it a day. I head out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where Lily and Skylar are fiercely arguing over two tops.

"No, that one would go better with these pants and you should wear the other one." Skylar says.

One is a skimpy black lace crop top that should be considered lingerie but shockingly isn't, and the other is a mesh top that I'm guessing would go over a bralette.

"The lingerie should go with the black skinny jeans and the mesh top with that mini-skirt." I interject.

"Yes!" Lily yells out, triumphant.

I snag the lingerie and skinny jeans before anyone else can and say, "I'm wearing this. Sorry losers." I stick my tongue out at them to rub it in.

"No, wear it; I think it would look good on you." Skylar says.

I put it on and instantly like the way I look. The jeans have a little rip above the right knee, and the top nicely outlines my breasts.

"You look fantastic, hon." Skylar says appreciatively. I make sure the sapphire necklace rests nicely between my collar bones and add some black van shoes.

I look over at her. Her black curls are defined and bouncy, and she's wearing blood red lipstick. A choker hugs her neck, and her gold-sequin mini skirt showcases her butt nicely. Paired with a simple off the shoulder black top, she looks stunning. "Damn, so do you."

"Thanks, love!"

Lily comes out of the bathroom wearing only a red halter bralette and a black mini skirt. Her hair is stick straight and her lips are the same color as her top. On her feet, she has dangerously high black heels.

"You're going to fall over in that, Lily."

"Don't worry about it, I'm used to it by now."

I laugh at her as she chugs the rest of her beer and lets out a big "Whoop!"

I finish what's left of mine and soon, we're heading out. We're all wearing very large sweaters over our skimpy outfits so that the professors don't look at us suspiciously.

When we get to the lake, there's a small boat waiting for us. Giggling, we jump into it and are immediately cloaked by some kind of invisibility charm. I look out over the rest of the lake. How many other boats are concealed there?

The boat slowly leads us to a remote part of the lake impossible to see from the castle. Once we jump off the boat, Alex Finsole pops out of nowhere, gives us a once-over, nods, and waves his wand. Out of nowhere, the party appears.

Alex tells us that the amount of security was put into place after last year, where we got caught by McGonagall, which, I can attest to, was not a fun time.

I thank him and take my giant Ravenclaw sweater off, which I leave in the boat that now has Lily, Skylar, and I's names on it.

The party is already roaring and the sun hasn't even fully disappeared yet. There is a massive bonfire, and people are holding red solo cups I'm assuming they got from a long table that serves as a bar next to the fire. Two sixth-year Ravenclaws are making weird cocktails that I know from experience are very high in alcohol but don't taste like it- a dangerous game to play.

But, I know the dangerous game very well and approach the table, aiming for a bright violet drink that makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside and doesn't leave the worst hangover (it is still a terrible hangover).

I'm leaning against a tree, sipping my drink slowly and surveying the party, as Albus walks over to me. His black hair is a mess on top of his head and his cheeks are a little pink, most likely from the very tall glass of beer he's holding in his hand. He's not drunk yet, but he's getting there.

"Rosie! Come join us. Stop sulking in your corner."

He jogs the rest of the distance over to me, takes my hand, and pulls me into the lively crowd. I laugh at his enthusiasm, and down the rest of my drink in one gulp. He grabs me another on our way to the middle of the dance floor, and I swallow that one as well. My head is starting to feel a little light, and the edges of my vision are becoming a little fuzzy- that's how I know it's going to be a good night.

Albus and I spend what feels like a few minutes, but is in fact three hours, dancing to the music. The beat courses through my body, and as the drinks flow through me I completely let go of any head girl worries that had been occupying my mind all day. I become the music.

I can feel sweat beginning to drip down my forehead, and I decide to step off the dance floor and cool off a bit. My alcohol-addled brain finds it a good idea to walk down towards the lake, take my shoes off, and plunge my feet into the ice-cold water.

I inwardly sigh at the feeling of relief that this small action brings me, the cool water calmly lapping around my ankles. I sit down on a rock next to the water and look up to the stars and moon that had just appeared.

Noticing a tiny rock skidding across the water, I look to my left and see, not far away, Malfoy, sitting on the floor. He hasn't noticed me, so I throw a little pebble at him.

"Malfoy." My voice has a slight slur to it.

His head snaps up, and I can tell that his eyes are glazed over, likely from the alcohol. There's a cup of something balancing precariously on the stones next to him, and he reaches over to it and finishes it in one gulp, then throws it back towards the party. It lands next to the "bar."

"What." His voice also has a slur to it, even more pronounced than mine.

"Why are you not," I wave my hands around for emphasis, "you know, partying?"

He shrugs and throws another rock at the water. "Not in the mood right now, I guess."

"K." I stand back up and move to go back to the dancing, but he calls out to me.

"No wait, Weasley," he pats the floor next to him, "come sit with me."

A little surprised, I turn around and contemplate whether or not I should give up a few minutes of partying to be with Malfoy, but then realize that he's maybe going to apologize for this morning's shenanigans. I walk back to him, drunkenly stumble over a rock, and try to pretend that I did not experience that moment of clumsiness by immediately sitting down. Very close to him. Close enough that I can feel his body heat warming me in the quickly cooling night.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I just wanted to," he grimaces as though he's just swallowed a toad, "apologize for not being on top of my shit this morning and yesterday. I would be pissed if I were you too, and I feel like if we're going to do this, we might as well start off on a good foot."

"Really? That's surprising from you."

"Just take the apology, please." He turns to look at me, the moonlight shimmering off of the side of his face.

My spinning head registers how he looks almost angelic, sitting there next to the silent lake. His hair is in complete disarray, the ends going every which way, but there's a certain organization to it. Some order in the chaos. His ordinarily bright grey eyes are muted now, likely due to the alcohol coursing through his veins. His eyelashes almost shine in the pale lighting. The white shirt he's wearing stretches every time he breathes in. You can see the outline of his abs pressing against it.

I'm beginning to breathe deeper. I glance at his full lips before I whisper, "Apology accepted."

A smirk tugs at the side of his lips, causing me to look down at them again. Why am I looking at his lips? But I can't look away- definitely the alcohol. We're both leaning in closer now. He's breathing as heavily as I am, the sour taste of muggle vodka from his breath stinging my nose.

"Mmm?" He looks down at me. My head is a haze.

"Good." He says.

And then he closes the gap between us, bringing his mouth to mine.

I am surprised at first, even though I should've known where this conversation was headed. But then I relax into it, and the first wave of fire zings through me. I feel it down to my toes. My breath hitches, and I kiss him back harder. Our tongues intertwine, and he places his hand on my neck in an effort to bring me closer.

I start to pant a little, my head becoming even more loopy, both from the long night of losing myself to the pretty purple drink and how his tongue is doing things to my mouth that no tongue should be allowed to do.

I move to straddle him, bringing my body flush against his, every glorious inch of his solid chest pressing against mine. His hands move from my hair to my ass and his fingers dig in, pulling my pelvis closer to his. My head is spinning spinning spinning spinning, and I catch an imperceptible groan from his mouth into mine. I continue to grind against him, anything to alleviate the building ache between my thighs. An ache I know he is feeling too, from the hardness under me. We are breathing into each other's mouths, our tongues making love to each others', my fingers twining into his silken hair. It feels like heaven.

We are there, tangled in each other, for another few minutes, until…

"Rose!? Who is…" Skylar pauses for a second, and then registers the whose white blond head I am snogging.

She hurriedly walks towards us and forcefully pulls us apart. "What the bloody hell do you two think you are up to? Is this common? Rose?"

I look up at her, and suddenly I wake up from the drunken stupor. Scrambling off of Malfoy's lap and realizing exactly who I'd been enthusiastically snogging, I jump up and look Skylar, panicked, in the eyes.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. I did not mean to do that. What the hell am I thinking? Don't tell Albus, either of you. This never happened. I'm going to go drown myself now. Goodbye!"

I don't go drown myself (and suicide jokes are not okay, I was just drunk AS IS IMPORTANT TO NOTE BECAUSE NO SOBER PERSON WOULD WILLINGLY SNOG SCORPIUS BLOODY MALFOY AND ENJOY IT) and instead storm down to the boats, hastily fixing up my hair and adjusting my top. Skylar sprints after me.

"Ok Rose wait I need to go in the boat with you wait a second."

I turn around, "Skylar. I am counting to five. If you are not in the boat within that time I am leaving. I'm not spending any more time here."

Skylar never gets drunk at parties. She says it will "hurt her Quidditch ability and chances of getting onto a prestigious team". I mean, kudos to her for that. However, I, quite frankly, couldn't give fewer shits. She gets to the boat within the five seconds, and we're soon off into the night.

We hop off of the boat. I'm teetering a bit and Skylar is trying to hold me upright. I put my sweater back over myself and cast a disillusionment charm over us so that we won't be caught so late after hours, even though I already know a very easy passage to get to the Ravenclaw tower from the Herbology greenhouses.

Once Skylar drops me off at my room, I don't even have the consciousness to take my shoes or clothes off before I stumble onto my bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I wake up to a splitting headache and a parched throat. The sunlight streaming through the window burns my eyes. Groaning, I bury my head back into my pillow.

After a few minutes of trying to ignore the fact that I'm actually awake, I pull myself from the bed. I make it a few strides until I spot my reflection in the mirror and do a double take. My hair is sticking up every which way, the charm for the pretty curls long gone. There's glitter running down my face, and the pinkish lipstick I'd been wearing is smeared all over my mouth.

I groan again, dragging myself to the shower, where I set the water to scalding hot.

It's only when I step out of the shower and put on a white hoodie and jeans that I remember exactly what happened last night.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." I chant to myself, as I hastily add the finishing touches to my makeup and pull on some white tennis shoes. I'm out of my door in two minutes, and knocking at Malfoy's in three.

He opens up only a few seconds after I knock, shirtless, with his hair still mussed up from sleeping and small bags under his eyes.

"Malfoy, we need to talk."

It is his turn to groan. "Wait a sec." He slams the door back into my face, and I stand there, a little shocked, but then decide to wait for him to come out of his room on one of the couches in the common room. He won't avoid me on this one.

He comes down a few minutes later, fully dressed and much more put-together. "I'm guessing you want to talk about last night?"

"Yeah…" I pause, the awkwardness of the moment washing over the both of us.

"Could you maybe, like, not tell Al about this?" I ask. "I don't think he'd take it well, and it really didn't mean anything, I mean we were both completely drunk, and I was not thinking straight, and it really could have been anybody, and I don't want him seeing something that's not there, and I also don't want it to be awkward between you and I because, you know, we have to work together and everything, and…"

"Woah woah woah. Slow down there, tiger. I know it didn't mean anything. We were both drunk and stupid, right?" He offers an easy smile. "Of course, I'm sure snogging me must have been the event of your lifetime, but, at least to me, it wasn't anything. It wasn't even that good."

I breathe a sigh of relief that he doesn't find it so important. At the same time, my ears redden at the insult.

"You must think highly of yourself, Malfoy, if you think I thought that was a good kiss."

His lips curl up into an easy smirk. As a response, I turn on my heels and storm back up to my room.

To tell you the truth, from what I remember, it was a good kiss. In fact, it was the best one I've ever had. But he's never going to know that. No, all he's allowed to know is that it was a drunken kiss and that I think, no, I know, that it was a mistake.

I throw myself onto my bed and fish the transfiguration textbook out of my bag. It is my worst subject, so I have to work twice as hard in it, but that's okay. It's not that I find it to be a boring subject, I just don't have as much of an affinity for it as I do for, say, potions.

I take out my fountain pen (given to me last Christmas by Percy) and start annotating.

A few hours pass, and me and my books, pens, papers, and wand are all chaotically strewn about my bed. I stand up and stretch, surveying the mess that I've made. That was a good, successful study session. As it is now time for lunch (I forgot breakfast due to my anger and nausea from last night), I grab my wand, stuff it in my pocket, check that my hair looks half decent in the mirror, and walk out of the dorms.

The hallways are bustling with people trying to get to the Great Hall, and I have to elbow my way past a sea of confused first years to get a good spot at the Ravenclaw table. Thankfully, Skylar had saved me a spot.

"Hey," I say as I plop down next to her. I give her a swift kiss on the cheek and say, "I'm so sorry for last night, thank you for taking care of me."

She winks at me and stuffs a massive portion of quiche into her mouth. "No problemo hon, next time don't get as drunk, though." I watch her as she takes a swig from her glass of pumpkin juice and wipes the remaining mustache on her sleeve.

Chuckling, I reach for a cherry tomato and plop it into my mouth, savoring the juices exploding on my tongue. "Skylar, you eat like a pig."

"Is that the way you treat the person who dragged your alcoholic ass back to your room?"

"Yes."

"Who dragged whose alcoholic ass?" A voice pipes up behind me.

"Albus!"

I pull him down to sit next to me, even though he doesn't belong to our house. He fights me off, winks at me, and squishes himself into the small gap between Skylar and I. I roll my eyes and scooch down a bit so that he is still uncomfortable, but I am not unable to move my arms.

"So! Had a good night, girls?"

Skylar and I throw each other a glance, and I slowly respond, "Yeah…"

Skylar embarks on the long tale on how she had to essentially carry me back to my room (not true), carefully avoiding why I needed to return so early, and I let out a breath of air that I'd been holding in anticipation of Albus finding out.

"Oh c'mon Rosie. I thought we'd established in fifth year that getting that drunk never ends well."

I dunk my head into my glass of pumpkin juice to avoid looking guilty at just how badly it ended. He's referring to an incident when James (in his sixth year at the time) dared me to jinx Professor Jillfroome while she was sleeping. Needless to say, it didn't end well for me. Or, it did end well, if you consider six weeks of detention to be a fun time.

Slowly finishing the dregs of my drink, I turn and peek, pretending I'm tying my shoelaces, at the Slytherin table behind me. Malfoy isn't there. Again, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Skylar shoots up from her seat, looking panicked.

"Shoot, I forgot I had a meeting with Madam Hooch! I'll meet you guys for dinner later?"

I give her a thumbs up, and she spins on her heels, hurrying for the training grounds where she's surely going to have another conversation about her career in Quidditch.

That leaves Al and I alone. We finish our lunch in silence, and then he turns to me.

"Do you want to go to the rocks?"

I nod at him and stuff one last strawberry into my mouth. We hurry out of the great hall and straight out of the castle, stopping only for Albus to accio his cigarettes. Then, we walk to the end of the lake, the farthest part of the lake from the school. In that place, there's an outcropping of rocks jutting over the water, half covered by an old willow (not the weeping willow, just a regular one). This is where Albus hangs out a lot, either with his Slytherin friends or with our cousins, rarely both at a time.

He scales the highest rock easily, the moves practiced and choreographed even though it is a steep climb. I scramble up the one directly next to it, better hidden under the ancient tree. Pulling out his pack of cigarettes, he lights one and pops it into his mouth. He knows better than to offer me one at this point.

Albus started smoking in sixth year, right after James did. I don't necessarily care for this habit of his, but I won't chastise him for it: he knows the risks and my repeating them to him won't do much other than make him roll his eyes at me.

We spend the better part of an hour on that rock, talking about the stupidest things, ranging from the people we fancy and shit-talking others in our grade to gossiping about the professors.

Most of the conversation remains about whether or not Skylar will ever respond to his advances in the way he wants. They've hooked up quite a few times, but he's never had the feeling that she'd say yes if he really asked her to go out. I disagree with him. If she says no, it was worth a shot anyways, right?

He does ask me about my love life, but I try to answer with as few words as possible, the events of the previous night still fresh in my mind.

Hogwarts' clock strikes three times, signaling our time to go back to school. We begin our trek back in comfortable silence, letting the lingering scent of his cigarettes trail away behind us.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 _Scorpius POV_

Stupid. Fuck.

I curse at myself as my hands continue to attack the punching bag. Blisters are forming at my knuckles, one of which has already begun to bleed, the ruby red liquid glistening down my hand.

I came up here, to the Room of Requirements, thirty minutes ago, after having lunch in the Slytherin common room to escape anybody who might remind me of last night.

My conversation with Rose had been a disgusting acting job. "It wasn't even that good." I'd told her. What a fucking joke. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. Lust is still coursing through my veins hours and hours and hours later, even after I tried to relieve myself of some of it once I got back from the party. And this morning. And after lunch. Fuck.

If I'm honest, that's the only word in my mind right now. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Of course didn't plan on kissing her. I was drunk out of my mind, I barely knew what I was doing until our lips touched. Then her tight little body was on mine, her hair a lion's mane showering around our heads, she was grinding into me, I was pulling her close, so close. Fuck.

A second knuckle cracks open, and I decide to stop.

The room of requirements has become a sort of secret of mine. I discovered that it hadn't been destroyed during the fire in the war, its magic strong enough to stitch it back together. Since then, it's been my sanctuary, where I exercise, do my homework, sleep, or do virtually anything alone.

I tape my knuckles up and wipe away my sweat with a towel provided to me by the room.

It's good, so good that she doesn't want me to tell Albus anything. If this stays between me, her and Skylar forever that will be enough for me. All I need to do now is forget about it as much as I possibly can. Probably won't be the simplest task, but I really don't have the choice.

How can someone so infuriating be so attractive? I always knew she was beautiful: I only tell her she's not because it pisses her off (now that I think about it, though, she hasn't been getting nearly as angry anymore- I need to figure out another way to annoy her). But I was never attracted to her. Hell, I never really thought of it, her cousin being my best friend and all. Now though? I don't know how I'm going to ignore it anymore, especially as we're spending so much time together as Heads.

I shake my head and sweat flies around the room. I smell like a pig, but the endorphins are rushing through me and I'm on an adrenaline high. It feels great. I take a quick shower, get dressed, and head out of the room to my apartments.

I cross some Slytherins on my way there and stop and say hi. Alex is still hungover, and the green look on his face is classic. He couldn't have woken up more than an hour ago, judging from his clothing choice and hair. He gives me a weak smile, but he's not the one I'm stopping for. He's with Maisie Campbell, a leggy Slytherin that I've been with countless times. Right now, I've got an itch to scratch, and she's exactly who I need.

"Hey Scorp," she says with a flirty smile.

"Maisie." I nod. "Are you up to anything right now?"

She looks down at Alex with the barest hint of disgust on her face. "No, not right now."

"Perfect." I say gruffly, before pulling her towards me. I slip an arm around her waist and grab her ass.

"I've been wanting to show you my new room." I whisper into her ear, and she mischievously smiles up at me before running a perfectly manicured hand down my arm.

"Of course."

We walk up to the Heads' apartments, leaving poor Alex behind. The position we're walking in makes it so that every now and then, the side of her tits presses against my chest. I enjoy it as much as I can.

We're in the common room in no time, and she stops for a few seconds to admire it. I have no patience for it, the lust from last night still not fully gone. I look up at Rose's room, which looks tightly sealed. She's likely not there right now, and won't come back until later. I drag Maisie back into my arms and press her up against a bookshelf.

She looks up at me expectantly and swishes her raven hair behind her shoulders. I grunt and bring my lips down to hers, moving my pelvis so that it's in between her legs.

I'm not gentle with her, and as I push up against her, a book falls down to the floor, making a loud thud. I don't pay any heed to it, and pull Maisie's shirt from her body, wanting to bury my face in her tits.

"Scorpi-" Rose's voice from the top of her staircase stops in its tracks, and I hastily push myself away from Maisie. A hurt look flashes across Rose's face so fast that I think I've imagined it, but it's quickly replaced with annoyance and anger.

"I- whatever, honestly do whatever the fuck you want." She slams the door behind herself.

A beat of silence passes until Maisie giggles and pulls me towards her again, but after a beat, I shake her off. "I'm not in the mood right now."

I pick up the book and her shirt and toss the latter back at her. I drop the book back into its spot, turn on my heels, and walk back up into my room before she's able to utter a word.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _Rose POV_

I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment in my chest at the sight of Malfoy's head in Campbell's chest. I have no right to, and I don't understand why I feel this way. To be disappointed, one must have had their hopes up in the first place… but hopes up for what? I kissed Malfoy once. Granted, it felt incredible, but he's kissed so many people that I couldn't have been that special to him. But I've never felt that way kissing someone before.

I hate him, though. Nobody has ever made my blood boil like he has. I _have_ to write off the passion of the kiss as a drunken mistake.

I shake my head of the thoughts, splash my face with water, and head out through the Ravenclaw door in my room to spend the rest of the day with friends.

* * *

It's finally the first day of classes, and my first is Potions, my best class. I spend it next to Harper, as far across the room from Malfoy as possible. Nobody finds this out of the ordinary, of course, but I feel the tension between us crackle, even though I've been avoiding glancing in his direction.

Transfiguration is next, and that runs smoothly as well. In fact, all my subsequent classes go well that day. It isn't until the first prefect meeting that afternoon that him and I clash again.

Everybody is at the meeting, and we're discussing the rounds schedules. I have to deal with the complaints from everyone, and I try to placate them to the best of my ability. Oddly enough, Malfoy is doing the same, but not in the way I want him to.

"Of course, Annabelle, you can change your Friday night shift to Tuesday. We'll switch you with Louis Weasley." He says to Annabelle Nott, a Slytherin sixth year.

I walk over to him. "Malfoy, I've already arranged all the schedules, you can't change anything now."

He offers me an easy smirk. "Of course I can, Weasley. I'm Head Boy, remember?"

I take a deep breath and try to calmly say, "If you'd wanted to have a say in the rounds, you should've helped me make them."

"And why didn't you come to me to finish it together instead of doing it all by yourself?"

"Because I'd _assumed_ , _stupidly_ , that you'd be responsible enough to come to me and _ask_." My voice rises slightly. "And now you have the absolute _audacity_ to demand to change something?"

"You're just bitter because you want your cousin to have friday nights off. It's clear favoritism."

"And changing the schedule in favor of a Slytherin isn't favoritism?"

"Obviously not."

Annabelle is still standing there, watching us silently. Comical.

"I cannot believe you, Malfoy. No, we are not changing the rounds schedule, and that's all."

"I'm Head Boy too, Weasley." I can tell he's getting pissed. "I get to decide things just as much as you do."

"You'd get to decide things as much as I do if you worked as much as I do. McGonagall already approved the schedule I made, you're not going to go around and change it anymore!"

"Why not, if it makes it better?"

"Because I said so. And it wouldn't be better." I turn around to go discuss rounds with the other prefects, but I feel an ice-cold iron grip on my wrist pulling me back.

I whirl around. " _Get. Off. Me. Now."_

"Stop telling me what to do, Weasley, and perhaps I will." He says with a steely calm, grey eyes flashing dangerously at me.

I stand there silently, waiting for him to let me go. Three. Two. One. Then I twist my arm up, elbowing him hard in the nose and wrenching my hand from his hold.

"Bitch," He grabs my hair and yanks me back against his chest, his hold around my waist like a vice.

"Ow! Asshole!"

Unfortunately, before I can bring my foot up between his knees, Louis comes between us.

"For _fuck's_ sake, let her go, Malfoy. What kind of example are you setting?" He pulls me from Malfoy's arms into his.

He's still fuming, and so am I. After a decently long stare-off, he concedes. "Fine, Weasley. Do it your way."

He stalks off, likely to convince Annabelle to not be too upset about her Friday night fun losses.

Louis lets go of me and looks at me, disappointed. "You're acting like a child. Be careful, remember Neville's warnings."

I glare at him. "It's not _my_ fault."

"It is, in part. You should compromise with him more often. Perhaps you're being too controlling."

"You're not my mother, Louis." I storm away from him.

I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down, but I'm infuriated. Why is Malfoy's chest so goddamn _solid_? And why am I thinking about _that_ , of all things? I have a problem. A real problem.

* * *

The week passes, but I decide not to go to Saturday's party in the Gryffindor dorm. I've had Quidditch practice almost every day this week, on top of Head's duties and studying. This year is not going to give me a break. At the moment, I'm working on a 50 cm paper about human transfiguration for professor Jillfroome (the transfiguration professor) due Monday and I've barely even begun the outline.

I'm bent over the parchment in the middle of the Head's common room, enjoying the tranquility that comes with having it all to myself. The scratch of my quill and the crackling of the fireplace are the only sounds in the room.

As I get to the twentieth centimeter (yes, I'm counting), the door to Malfoy's room cracks open. He walks out, wearing grey sweatpants, a Slytherin shirt, and a pair of glasses. I never even knew he needed glasses. He comes down the steps and plops himself down on the couch across from the table that I'm working at.

"Is that the Jillfroome paper?" He asks. "Can I have a glance?"

"Are you going to copy it?"

"No, I finished it yesterday, but I want to see what you did differently from me."

I slump back in my chair and hand it over to him. "It's only the first draft and it's not even close to done."

He leans back into the pillows behind him, eyes scanning the paper.

I stand up and stretch: sitting in the same position for the last few hours did absolutely not one good thing for my back.

"I wish I could go to the party right now." I say to him, as he gives back the paper.

He looks up at me, curious. "What's stopping you?"

"This paper, idiot. What's stopping _you_?"

"I didn't want to go tonight." Malfoy stands up and takes a few strides towards the sink in the kitchenette area of the common room.

"How come? You're always up for a party."

"I just didn't feel like it." He fills a tall glass of water and downs it in one gulp. "Besides, it's Gryffindors."

"Oh, come on, admit it. They're fun."

"Slytherins are better."

"No… Ravenclaws are better. Get with the program."

"You guys are just a bunch of weirdos. Us Slytherins have class."

"At least we're not elitist assholes."

That shut him up real good. Until…

"You'd call your own cousin an elitist asshole?"

That shut me up.

"Fine, fine." I sit back down in my chair and pull my quill out. "I've got to finish this tonight, though, Malfoy."

He gets the cue and _accios_ a book from the shelf. Within seconds, he's nestled in the pillows, reading silently.

I turn back to my parchment and concentrate again.

Or at least, _try_ to concentrate. He looks really good in glasses. And I'm not saying that because I'm attracted to him in any way, shape, or form, because I'm very much not, but simply because my mind is extremely fact-oriented. Indeed, it likes to pick up facts. Yes. Another fact my dear mind has noticed is how good his hair looks. It's all mussed up, the ends a little curly, coming down in front of his eyes. He runs a hand through it and pushes it back, leaving an arm corded with muscle behind his head.

"You done staring, Weasley?" He says with a smirk.

Ignoring that he's caught me, I ask, "Since when do you need glasses?"

"Since I decided it was more comfortable to not wear my contacts at eleven pm."

"Logical of you."

"Mmm." He replies, and goes straight back to his book.

I finish the paper, all 50 cm of it, and go up back up to my room to sleep with no more words exchanged between the two of us.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

September rolls along, and with it, October. The leaves turn orange and red, cold winds start blowing around us in Quidditch practice, and I'm spending more time than ever in the Head's library. The only light at the end of a tunnel filled with spell memorizations and 75 cm long papers is Halloween, and boy, does the Potter-Weasley clan know how to do Halloween.

Every year, even the graduated cousins (which now consists of the majority of us) comes back to Hogwarts on the 31st to celebrate the spooky day. The tradition, which started in my third year, is that after the dinner, everybody reunites on the edge of the lake at 10 pm and waits for a boat to appear. We're each allowed to bring three friends, but nothing more. If you think about it, that's quite a few people, when you factor in the fact that there are seventeen of us (counting Lorcan, Lysander, Alice, and Frank). Quadruple that, and you'll get to 68 people, which is good enough to make a sweet party.

The boat isn't gigantic, but it's quite nice. It has some type of charm that keeps it invisible, enough rooms and beds to host the lot of us during the night (so we don't get caught returning to the castle past hours), a charm to keep it warm all throughout the autumn night, a bar, and even a hot tub. I don't know how Teddy managed to find it (he was the one who had the idea for the first party), but it's brilliant.

I usually do a costume with Skylar. Last year, we were muggles (but sexy), which was funny, but this year we're thinking of doing the classic angel/devil costume (which is basic, yes, but we haven't had much time to think about it). I'll bring Harper and Taylor along as well.

The party and Halloween are only a few days away, and each cousin is tasked with one task. Al, Lily, Hugo, Louis and I's is the food, as we're still in Hogwarts and friends with the house elves. James finds the alcohol, Fred the weed, Roxy, Dom, and Lucy the decorations. Teddy and Victoire (and Molly a little bit) take care of the boat, Alice and Frank the candy, and Lorcan and Lysander the magic amusements (which vary every year depending on the theme). It's a whole organisation, but when it comes together it truly is the most fun.

I cram in as much work as possible during the next few days. If I'm not at my desk with a quill in hand, I'm at the Quidditch field blocking every ball possible from entering the goals behind me. If I'm not in bed, I'm on a run around the grounds. If I'm not arguing with Malfoy, I'm arguing with the other prefects about why they can't skip a round.

I've been ignoring my attraction to Malfoy, which is proving more difficult than I thought it would. Surely, I can't be attracted to him and hate him at the same time? It makes no sense whatsoever. This is perhaps the only reason I appreciate working so much: I can focus on anything but him, outside of Head's duties, of course, which have been making me rip my hair out in frustration (both sexual and because he's infuriating).

The few days before the party drag on. Skylar, Harper, Taylor and I all made a little trip down to Hogsmeade to buy costumes and get other beauty treatments taken care of. Much to my chagrin, I needed to get certain areas waxed. Skylar and I bought our angel/devil costumes, and it's been decided that I'll be the devil (Skylar says white looks better on her).

I'm walking out of the Head's bathroom when Malfoy walks into the common room still wearing his Slytherin Quidditch robes, hair completely disheveled and purple bags under his eyes. He looks absolutely exhausted, likely a mirror reflection of my current state.

I don't think he even registers that I'm in the room too, since he doesn't even look up the stairs to where I'm standing. Instead, he stumbles over to the nearest couch, where he falls onto it and promptly falls asleep.

I let out a giggle as the first snore rises into the air. He's completely under and it's only ten at night. I still have hours of work to do. Fuck.

I go back into my room and lock myself up with my charms work. An exciting time, to say the least.

* * *

It's finally Halloween day. The feast moves along slowly, the entertainment good but the prospect of the night ahead far outweighing the food and floating pumpkins. I scarf up my food fast and rush out of the hall as soon as we're dismissed, the rest of the Weasley, Potter and FriendsTM crew along with me. Skylar and I get ready together in my room.

She bought a lacy white top that doubles as a bra and stops right above where her ribcage ends, paired with a form-hugging white leather mini-skirt and high white boots. She looks _fantastic_ , to say the least. Of course, to top off the look, she has a pair of feathery wings charmed to look like they're slowly flapping.

As she applies her makeup in the mirror, I pull on my own outfit. I really stepped it up this year, and I'm not sure how my cousins are going to feel about my wearing this. They'll just have to deal, I guess. As a top, I chose a black lingerie-like bodysuit. As for the bottoms, I have a bright red leather miniskirt and black leather boots with a red heel. I'm wearing cheap little devil's ears and black devil wings reaching behind my back.

I look deadly and I love it. It's not every day you get to dress up like this, is it?

For makeup, Skylar and I decide on winged eyeliner and glossy lips. Where we differ is that her lips are colored a pretty pink and mine are blood red. I've let my hair down in waves where it reaches the bottom of my ribcage, and hers is a raven-black straight sheet down her back. The two of us make quite the pair.

To get to the lake, we cast a disillusionment charm on ourselves to escape the professors, Peeves, and Filch. This is quite an un-Head Girl activity of me to do, but that's never really stopped any Weasley.

We make it down to the lake with no issue at all, which is surprising and rare, but must be our Halloween luck (if such a thing even exists?). We're there exactly on time, and most people are already assembled. Thank god it's dark outside, because there are far too many of us to go unnoticed to the untrained eye. Hopefully the boat arrives fast.

I notice Malfoy is one of Albus' plus ones, and as soon as my gaze wanders around to him, he's looking towards the lake and muttering something to Al. His costume is a pirate, donning a torn white shirt, an eye patch (which, weirdly enough, only manages to bring out his bone structure), and a captain's hat. There's clearly not too much thought put into his costume, but some of his very well sculpted chest is visible through the rips in his shirt. My mouth goes dry, but I force my eyes away from him. It's unfair how gorgeous he is.

I chat with Lily, who has come dressed as a surfer girl while we wait for the boat to appear. She's brought a 6th year boy along with her, likely her boy of the week (or month, if he's lucky). He's not unattractive, but I've never seen him before.

"His name is Carter Gloston, he's in Slytherin." she whispers to me.

"A Slytherin? My, Lily, look at you."

She smirks up at me, and right as she does that, a magnificent white double-decker boat appears in front of us.

Albus lets out a hoot, only to be elbowed in the ribcage by Taylor, still afraid we'll be caught. We all board in complete silence, climbing up the stairs onto the deck. Once all of us are on (and this is double and triple-checked), the charm that keeps us invisible acts up, and music and lights explode all around us.

We all cheer loudly. This is going to be a great night.

The first thing any one of us does is make (or rather, fight) our way to the bar, grabbing whatever drink is closest to us. For me, it's a bottle of Ogden's Finest firewhiskey. Boy, did I get lucky on this one.

I down a few gulps, but not too many, as I know I want to save myself for the creative drinks that are sure to come later. I look around myself and see that the party is already in full swing, people swaying to the music on the floor, others smoking on bean bags, the whole thing.

I spot Scorpius in a corner, blunt in hand, chatting up one of Dom's blonde friends.

I feel something boiling in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy? No, that can't be it. Probably the firewhiskey doing things to my stomach. I have other things to do than think about him, especially on one of my favorite nights of the year. I make my way up to the roof of the boat, an area with plush couches and ample dancing space. Perfect.

James and Fred are talking to some of their friends that I recognize, having graduated last year, the same as my two most devious cousins.

James spits out a bit of his drink when he sees me. "Rosie? Is that you?"

"Hello, dearest Jamesie! Hi Freddy!"

James shakes his head, "Absolutely not. What the fuck are you wearing? Not allowed. Not allowed at all."

"Thank god it's only people we trust here, I'd be worried if it wasn't," Fred chimes in.

"Don't worry, I know how to defend myself. Am I not allowed to look good and dress up sometimes?"

They shake their heads. Taking that as a sign of defeat, I say hi to their friends (one of which is very handsome), introducing myself as "Rose, their favorite cousin."

* * *

 _Scorpius POV_

The party is already going great, and we're only into the first half hour. I'm talking to a beautiful blonde with perfect tits, the effects of the weed making the world a little hazier, and drinks keep appearing in my hand. I'm leaning against the wall of the ship, and the blonde is getting nice and close to me. Nothing could be better after these past two months.

The blonde giggles and pulls me up to the roof of the boat, where the lounging area is, and who am I to resist?

She's climbing onto my lap when I catch sight of brilliant red hair and sinfully long, toned legs in dangerously high black and red boots.

" _Ohhhhhh, fuck."_ I think to myself.

Rose is talking to a graduated Gryffindor, who I remember because he was a particularly nasty beater. She's smiling up at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I see her nod happily, and then he's going down the stairs to where I imagine the bar is. She plunks down on a couch some ways away from me, _things_ bouncing that I'd never noticed on her before.

I'm pushing the blonde away before I can even think about what I'm doing. "Go find another boy tonight." I say rather abruptly. I down the next drink in my hand easily, but none of the alcohol has reached my head yet, so I stay there and look at Rose laughing with another one of her cousins.

I realize that I must seem like a complete idiot, sitting there, staring at a girl that I hate, so I push myself up and out of the couch and go down the steps to the main floor. There, I find Al and Acer Saunders, a Slytherin in our year. They beckon me to them and I make my way over.

I spend the next two hours with them, drinks making their way down our throats every so often, a blunt of cigarette perpetually in hand. I'm far, far gone when I see a perfect little devil sauntering down the steps to the dance floor.

My legs are moving towards her before I even have time to register what they're doing. She's headed to the back of the boat, where the bathrooms are, swaying on her feet every so often. My legs, of their own accord, start moving faster.

She's almost at her destination when I reach her.

"Weasley!" I call, or rather slur, out.

She spins around too fast and trips on her boots. She's about to fall when I catch her.

"Watch it, little devil." I say.

She pushes off of me and stumbles backwards a little. "You," she drunkenly falls into the wall, "you are an" she pauses and pushes stray hair out of her eyes, "asshole."

I smirk at her, "And why would that be?"

"Because," she hiccups, "because you are incredibly," a breath escapes her lips, "sexy."

I'm taken aback for a second, not expecting her to say that. But it's all the better.

I take a step towards her and she closes her eyes. "Nope, Malfoy. I did n _ot_ mean that." She giggles. "In fact, you look terrible. Absolutely horrendous. I am _not_ attracted to you. Not a bit."

I laugh at her. This is a different Rose than the one in our common room every night.

I close the distance between us, bracing my arms on the wall on each side of her head for stability.

"Weasley, that skirt."

"What about it, Malfoy?"

"I like it a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck, yeah." I say. "It's spectacular."

She looks, and there is no other way to put this, hot. Her legs stretch on for miles, perfect and smooth. Her ass, in that fucking _skirt_ , is a tantalizing treat that I only want to explore for hours. Her waist cinches in wickedly, cruelly teasing me. And then her chest, rising and straining against her top with every breath she takes, a sacrilegious sight. Finally, her lips, full and juicy, an invitation to devour.

 _Fuck_. When did I start thinking these things? They've been at the forefront of my mind whenever I see her, ever since that first searing kiss, and I can't get it out of my head, no matter how hard I may try. This outfit is amplifying my wants by a thousand.

She looks up expectantly at me, "Done staring, Malfoy?" and arches an eyebrow.

My alcohol-addled brain is competing against my body and losing. _Don't_ , it tells me. But I ignore it.

My hands fall down from the wall onto her waist, where they fit perfectly.

"Blame this on the drinks and weed, Weasley," I whisper, before crashing my lips down on hers.

It's heaven and it's hell. It's the most pure and impure feeling I've ever felt. It's everything I remember it being and more. Her little body presses up against mine, and it's all I can do to keep myself from moaning at the pleasure it gives me. What _is_ this? My hands roam up and down, until they land somewhere incredible. My fingers dig into her ass over her skirt, relishing its firmness.

And then she moans into my mouth.

There's nothing comparable to that sound. I need to hear it a million times over. Again, and again, and again. I hoist her up, her legs hooking around my hips, and press her against the wall. There isn't an inch of my chest not pressing against her, and it's glorious. She lets out a little mewl of pleasure, and I can't stop myself from groaning. I've never groaned with a girl.

When I decide I've had enough of this torture, I spin us around and barge into the room the closest to us. By a stroke of luck, it's Rose's.

* * *

 _Rose POV_

He throws me onto the bed and I giggle a little bit. That giggle dies in my throat when he takes off his shirt. His body is a work of art, crafted by a God, all flat panes of muscle, the only imperfection a little scar above his pectoral. Two lines of muscle descend into his pants. What the _hell_.

The room spins a little as he climbs on top of me. My hands reach for his hair, fingers threading through as I marvel at how soft it is. Then, his lips connect with mine once more and I lose all train of thought. I'm so grateful I'm lying down because I would've surely fallen from the wave of pleasure coursing through me.

He growls at me, tearing at my top. I flip onto my stomach, and he makes quick work of untying it and throwing it across the room. I flip back to my back, and the sight of my chest fully exposed makes him pause.

"Rose…"

He sounds tortured, so I decide to intensify his emotions and arch my chest up against him, whimpering at the feel of skin on skin. Surprisingly gently, he brings his hands up my body from my waist to my tits.

"Can I?" He asks quietly.

"Please." I nod quickly at him, needing his callused hands all over me. He wastes no time, hungrily reaching for my tits. One hand remains on one of them, the other threads itself through my hair. He lowers his mouth to my free nipple and sucks gently. I moan again, this time more gently. The sight of his muscled back working over my body is enough to drive me insane.

I start moving my hips against him, eliciting a low growl. "Do not do that."

"Why not?" I ask innocently.

He tears his face from my chest and brings his mouth up to my ear. "Because if you continue," he whispers, "I will not be able to stop myself."

I grind my hips against his again, this time harder.

"Rose." He reaches back and glues my hips forcefully against the bed. "Stop that. I only have so much control."

I smile sweetly up at him, and before he can register what has happened, I flip us over, a surprisingly agile move for my current state.

And before he can do anything else, I'm kissing my way down his chest, tasting every single perfect inch, until I arrive at his pants. He's straining against them, clearly needing to pop out. I look up at him, to see if it's ok with him, and he nods enthusiastically down at me. I smile tauntingly, and unbutton his pants to reveal him.

I let out a little breath. It's quite a nice sight, Scorpius Malfoy at my mercy. Then, I lower my mouth.

* * *

 _Scorpius POV_

I nearly fly off the bed in pleasure. There's nothing more beautiful than Rose Weasley, red hair cascading around her head, ocean blue eyes looking up innocently, as she tastes me. And she's awfully good at what she's doing. It's the sexiest sight. How the hell did I not realize how beautiful she is before this year? What was I teasing her about?

Then, she swirls her tongue in a move I've never seen before, and I have to grab the sheets to keep myself from jumping off the bed. Her head is bobbing up and down, up and down, and I know that my release is soon.

"Fuck. Rose, uhh, fuck. Rose, I'm going to come. Fuck."

She just keeps going harder, now using her hand, until my white liquid makes its way into her mouth.

My head falls back down onto the pillow. Wow.

She climbs back up my body and captures my lips in a searing kiss. She moans into my mouth, my hands are tangled in her hair. I'm in ecstasy. I flip us back over again, and my hand finally reaches a spot at the apex of her thighs that I've been looking for all night. I thrust one finger in.

She groans, the sound so inviting, and then, I start moving my hand, my thumb rubbing against her clit.

"Scor…" she says, rolling the 'r' at the end. I grin deviously against her lips and intensify my hand's thrusting. She's so wet, and it's damned amazing to know that she wants this as much as I do. I've been having dreams about doing exactly this for months now.

Before I start to lower myself down, her walls start clenching around my hand. I look at her and see that her eyes are closed, head thrown back, mouth in a perfect little 'o'. And since she didn't save me the privilege of tasting her, I bring my hand up to my mouth and lick her juices off. Sweet.

Fully satiated, she rolls off of me and to the other side of the bed, promptly falling asleep. My body, completely exhausted, gives in and my eyes close of their own accord. I don't even make it under the covers.


End file.
